Accident
by Paper Piano
Summary: One of the Italies is dead. The other, filled with regret. The remaining Italy drowning in depression, what can one do to save the country of Italy...? Is he going mad? T for Romano's language.
1. Chapter 1

"Pasta, pasta, gonna go get some pastaa~~" Veneziano sang as he skipped through the street with his brother, Romano. "Dammit, Fratello, slow down." Romano said, rolling his eyes irritably as he watched his ditzy brother skip around the street. "But, Fratello, you barely _ever _take me out for pasta~! I have a reason to be excited, ve~~! It's like, bonding time, ya know, ve?" Veneziano chirped, beginning to cross the road that led to their favorite pasta restaurant. "You sound like Poland." Romano grumbled as he followed his brother across the street.

Neither of them saw the car speeding down the road.

The shiny silver convertible sped at top speed toward the two Italians, showing no sign that it was going to stop or slow down. Veneziano had stopped in the middle to examine a flower that was growing out of the cracks in the asphalt. "Ne, ne, Fratello, look! The flower is growing out of the-" Feliciano was abruptly cut off by the revving noise of the convertible, paired with a loud honk from the horn. Together they clearly said, '_Get the fuck out of my way or you're dead!' _

Too late to be stopped now.

"VENEZIANO!"

_*SCREEEECHHHH*_

_*CRASH*_


	2. Chapter 2

Butterscotch eyes flicker rapidly from behind closed eyelids. A chest rises and falls, but only with the help of a machine breathing for it. An arm is encased with plaster in order to heal the fracture. The figure on the bed twitches for a second, then lies still in sleep. The spectators from behind a sliding door release a breath as they realize that he is still alive. A woman with emerald green eyes and waffle-colored curls sniffles and turns away for a moment. A man with messy brown curls and tanned skin bites his lip viciously as he attempts to hold back a sob. The sob comes out anyway, as a sort of breathy-exhale laugh/sob. The woman with the waffle-colored curls turns around again, and buries her face into the brunette's jacket as she cries, little hiccups and trembling sobs. The brunette rubs her back in small, soothing circles.

"I-I don't want to lose him t-too, Spain...!" Spain grimaces at the thought. He gives the Belgian woman a small reassuring smile,"We won't." Even through her tears, Belgium manages to glare at him with those strikingly green eyes of hers. "You d-don't know that, Spain." Spain's smile falters, and now has a note of sadness in it. "You're right. I don't. But what we both now is that he's a fighter. He'll fight for it." And with that, the Belgian seems to be appeased ever so slightly, but Spain knows that he's just trying to comfort himself.

* * *

_click..click...beeep_

"Here you go, sir." The morgue attendant says quietly as she slides her card out of the slit in the metal contraption on the wall. "_Danke._" The German says as he walks into the room, his boots clicking the tile as he walks. He approaches a body on a metal table, labeled, 'VARGAS' in big, black letters, with a white sheet pulled up over the head. Germany reaches out a gloved hand to tug down the sheet, revealing the peaceful face of a certain Italian. Germany can feel the unfamiliar stinging behind his eyes. "Hi." He begins, and his voice is thick, but he feels like he will break if someone merely taps him on the shoulder. "Um...it's a little weird, talking to a d-dead body..." Germany's voice cracks as he says dead body. "You, of all people should know that I can't show emotion very easily. But I'll say the one thing that has been on my mind since I heard about your accident. I'll miss you. Why did it happen to you? I don't know. You know what you told me once? God works in mysterious ways. But this is a way...I just don't understand." The stinging was really strong now, almost painful. Germany could see droplets of water on his lashes whenever he blinked. He just decided to let the dam loose, let it all out.

And Germany cried.

Germany hadn't cried like this since he was little and Prussia had told him that Germania had died. Hiccupping sobs, with big tears that rolled over the curve of his face, dripping from his eyes and falling to the tiled floor below. He squeezed his blue eyes shut.

* * *

Back in the hospital room, Belgium was curled up on a cotton cot next to the window, emerald eyes shut tight to the world. Her companion, however, could not sleep. Spain stared at the prone body of the Italian on the bed, usually bright jade eyes dull and worried. "_Dios..." _He breathed. He reached a shaky hand out to touch the sleeping Italian's face, but places it on his frail shoulder.  
He lets out an airy sob/laugh again. "Oh, you Italies. Getting all of us worried over you." Spain freezes as he realizes his mistake as soon as the words leave his mouth. "Oh, right." His head bows, his eyes shadowed by his bangs.

"There's only one Italy now."

* * *

Although on opposites sides of the hospital, two voices intertwine, speaking the same words, only heard by the unresponsive Italian next to them.

_"I was supposed to protect you, keep you from harm...I failed you...I promised you I would look after your brother...I'm so, so sorry...Italy..."_

* * *

Butterscotch eyes flicker rapidly from behind closed eyelids. A chest rises and falls, but only with the help of a machine breathing for it. An arm is encased with plaster in order to heal the fracture.

Then the eyes open.

The owner of the eyes stares weakly at the crying Spanish man in front of them, who doesn't seem to notice that they are awake. "So, so sorry..." Spain murmurs over and over again, chapped lips repeating the same mantra as he squeezes his eyes shut. The awakened Italian grabs the tube in his mouth and pulls it out roughly, scraping his innards as he begins to hack violently. "Hkk!" escapes the Italian's mouth, and the Spaniard's eyes fly open, tears of relief flooding the jade orbs as he sees that his Italian is awake.

* * *

A German man falls to his knees next to a prone body.

"I'm sorry... Romano."

* * *

"Veneziano...you're awake."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone~~! Oh my god, the amount of feedback I'm getting for this makes me so happy!~ Really! So this contains very light hits of yaoi here. The pairings are SPAMANO and GERITA. I got this message from a guest user who was nice enough to review, who was talking about SpaIta and this story is Spamano and GerIta. Just clarifying! Spain is just really protective of Feliciano now because he has lost Romano and he wants to fulfill the promise he made to Romano to protect his brother. But I'm getting ahead of myself.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Obviously. That is why its called FanFiction.**

Veneziano opened his mouth to speak, but Spain quickly shushed him as he turned to frantically beat the shit out of the call button. A nurse appeared in the doorway less than a few minutes later, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "Mr. Spain, for the millionth time, you do not need to press the call button when Mr. North Italy twitches the slightest bi-Oh! He's awake! I'll go get Dr. Cruce!" And with that, the nurse disappears once again. Spain looks over at Veneziano, as if to make sure he hasn't fallen asleep again. Spain turned towards Veneziano and sighed, giving him a little smile. Veneziano tries to smile back, he really does, but it comes out more like a grimace.

A man in a white lab coat bursts into the room, followed by the nurse from earlier. Moving out of the doctor's way, Spain turns to talk to the nurse. After doing a basic check of Veneziano's vitals, the doctor smiles gently at him and says, "Okay. You're good. Can you talk, Mr. Vargas?" Veneziano looks hesitantly at Dr. Cruce and tries to speak. "_Si, un po '*." _He says hesitantly. Veneziano is scared, so scared he has forgotten to speak English. Spain looks on sadly. The last time he had seen either of the Italy brothers do that was at England's party where Francis had knocked over a candle and nearly lit Vene up. Romano had been so angry and scared that he had cursed France out in Italian for a good 10 minutes. When Spain had tried to calm him down, Lovino had gone into an inconsolable state; hissing, biting, scratching so much that he almost resembled an angry cat.

"Mr. Vargas, do you know where you are?" Dr. Cruce begins, his voice soothing and smooth, as if he's talking to a child. Veneziano hesitates, and nods. "Where are you?" Dr. Cruce says. "_L'ospedale*._" Veneziano croaks, his voice dry and raspy from underuse. Dr. Cruce scribbles something down on his clipboard. "Mr. Vargas, do you remember August 14, 20XX?" Tears fill Veneziano's golden orbs and he turns his head to the side, before shaking his head slowly. Belgium releases a stifled sob and Spain squeezes the hand she must have slipped in when he wasn't paying attention. Veneziano croaks out, "_Mi dispiace..*."_ And Belgium rushes to his side. "Ita-chan, don't be sorry...it's not your fault..."

Germany comes into the room, and Veneziano's eyes widen and he holds his hands out. He rasps, "_Germania...*" _Germany smiles and hopes that it's not too obvious that he has been crying. After dealing with him for so long, he knows exactly what will calm the Italian down. "_Va tutto bene, l'Italia. Tu stai bene." _When Germany speaks Italian, it's usually to get Veneziano's attention. It does just that, and then Veneziano asks the one question they are all dreading.

_"Dov'è mio fratello? Dove si trova Romano?*"_

Germany and Spain suck in a breath. Belgium stiffens and leaves the room, tears welling in her eyes and she releases a shuddering sob.

**_"Italy..." _**

* * *

**_OKAY...IT IS UPDATED. _**

**_*1-Yes, a little.  
*2-The hospital...  
*3-I'm sorry...  
*4-Germany  
*5-(Roughly) It's alright, Italy. It's alright.  
*6-Where is my brother? Where is Romano?_**

**_Overuse of Italian? Maybe. It's possible. XD I regret nothing, however. Heehee~_**


	4. Chapter 4

Veneziano stared at the small group, caramel eyes fogged with sleep and confusion. _Why do they look so sad? _The doctor furrowed his eyebrows and said, softly, "Mr. Vargas, if you could please speak in English?" Veneziano stared at him, his mind trying to defog itself. He nods, smiling sheepishly at him. "Oh,_ si_, sorry." He turns his gaze to the doctor, who proceeds to ask him questions. How does he feel? Is he tired? Is he in any pain? But out of all those questions, the doctor repeats one. "Do you remember anything, Mr. Vargas?" The question is different from the rest. The manner he says it is unlike the way he asked the other questions. His voice is hesitant, light, as if he's talking to a child. Everytime the response is 'no', and he can tell with everytime he denies remembering anything, Spain's face twists a little. The doctor nods and quietly leaves the room after asking all of the questions. Veneziano lets out a breath, tired and still confused. Ludwig, Antonio, and Bella* each having dark bags under their eyes, approach the bed silently. There's a brief silence before Bella sobs and flings herself gently at him, curls bouncing as she cries.

Veneziano is taken by surprise at first. He visibly relaxes after a bit, picking up his non-fractured arm and stroking her back soothingly. Ludwig sits on the edge of the bed, hand placed comfortingly on his ankle. "I thought I lost you..." Ludwig murmurs, a foreign look in his eye. Feliciano smiles a little, sadly. "Well, you didn't." Ludwig moves to help him sit up, and Feliciano manages to, with a few whimpers and hisses. Bella has retreated from her hug to sit on the cot nearby the window, staring with misty jade eyes. The Italian looks up, and notices that Spain is lurking nearby the door. He stares at the Spaniard, who has his head bowed, lips moving in a silent mantra of sorts. Feliciano tilted his head to the side, and at that exact moment, Spain picked his head up. Feliciano's amber eyes widened as he stared at Spain. The Spaniard's mouth was twisted in a frown, and his normally bright eyes had a cold, angry glint to them. He blinked, making a small noise as Spain squeezed his eyes shut and walked out of the room. Feliciano bit his lip. The action didn't go unnoticed by Ludwig. "Hm? Is something wrong, Feliciano?" Feliciano turned his confused gaze unto Ludwig, who gazed back with those blue eyes of his. "Why is Big Brother Spain so upset?" Ludwig's expression darkened. "F-Feliciano...you really don't remember anything?" Ludwig's words were said with unease. Feliciano threw his hands into the air. "Yes! I don't remember anything!" There was that question again! Why did everyone ask him that! Ludwig sighed and looked Feliciano in the eyes.

Ludwig took Feliciano's hands into his own, the smaller man marveling at the difference. When Feliciano stops rejoicing over the contact, he lifts his head to look back at Ludwig. His facial expression is serious, the relief from earlier vanishing from his face. "L-Ludwig...?" Feliciano sounds meek, he frowns. Ludwig doesn't seem to be shaken by the unnatural expression on his face. "Feliciano." He says again. The aforementioned Italian smiles nervously, anxiety adding weight to his words. "T-That's my name." Feliciano feels a frown on his face again; since when did he stutter so much? Ludwig squeezes his hands to recapture his attention and Feliciano's head flicks towards him and away from the wall.

"Four days ago...you and your brother were hit by a car." Feliciano's mouth forms a small 'o' of shock and horror. "Are we alright?!" He cries out. Ludwig gapes at the Italian, trying to resist the urge to facepalm. The Italian is still looking frantically at him, eyes wide with horror. "A civilian nearby called an ambulance...and you were rushed to the hospital." Ludwig pauses, looking at Feliciano, gauging his reaction. Said Italian's eyebrows are knotted together at the base, furrowed as Feliciano tries to remember the horrific encounter. Ludwig leans up and presses his lips to his Italian's forehead, specifically on the place where his eyebrows come together. Feliciano's eyebrows come undone. He nods distantly. "I...remember that. A little." Ludwig's heart swells a bit with joy, and he smiles comfortingly. Feliciano nods; a signal for him to continue. "The doctors patched you up, but you stayed asleep for four days." Feliciano gapes, then chuckles a little. "That's probably the longest siesta I've ever taken." Ludwig can't resist the urge to laugh a bit, appalled at the Italian's ability to be able to joke about these things. "But..." Feliciano allows his eyes to flicker up to meet the German's. "What happened...to my brother? I remember him being there-" Feliciano stops short upon seeing the expression on Ludwig's face. It's one of poorly-masked terror. Ludwig glances back to Belguim, who has stopped her staring and is gazing at Feliciano with wide eyes. "Feliciano, I-"

"ITALYYYYYYYY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, GETTING HIT BY A CAR LIKE THAT?!"  
"Kesesesese~ Italy! The awesome me has arrived to make you feel better!"  
"Hungary! Prussia! Such behavior is unacceptable in a hospital-!"

With impeccable timing, an enraged Hungary bursts into the room, followed by an equally-upset, but not as bloodthirsty Austria. Prussia strolls in after the two, ignoring or not noticing the beaten up door, which is hanging off of it's hinges. Belgium and Germany breathe a sigh of relief. The two were slightly glad for the group's intrusion. After all, how are you supposed to tell him his brother was dead?


	5. Chapter 5

Hungary rushed forward and hugged her 'son', brown hair flying as she cuddled him to her chest. Austria was speaking in hushed tones to Germany, and Prussia was bouncing around the two of them, bragging about his 5 meters and being not-so-subtly ignored by the two. Spain came back into the room, his eyes still somewhat shadowed and cold. "Spaain! You'll listen to me, won't you? The others are being totally unawesome and not listening to me!" Prussia screamed, bounding over to Spain. Antonio smiled hollowly at the Prussian. "Of course, amigo." Prussia's exuberant smile faltered a bit as he took in his friend's appearance. "Oi, Spanien! You look like crap!" Spain laughed, a chillingly dry noise unlike his normal laugh. All eyes on the room were on Spain and Prussia. "Spanien..." Gilbert placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, only to have it slapped off.

Glibert's red eyes widened as he stared at the Spaniard. Spain was trembling. "How...can you all be so happy?" Germany paused his conversation with Austria. "What do you mean, Spain?" Antonio looked up in disbelief. "What do you mean, what do I mean?! How can you all be so happy when Romano is-?" "That's enough, Spain. You're tired. Go to bed." Elizabeta said cautiously. Antonio narrowed his eyes. "He...doesn't know?" His voice was even, but that made it a little scarier, as his eyes were dark and hateful. Germany shook his head. "Nein, he doesn't." Antonio's face darkened. "He needs to know sometime, you know," Feliciano looked confusedly up at Hungary, amber eyes wide. "What is he talking about? What do I need to know?"

And something inside Antonio snapped.

He exploded at Italy. "YOU NEED TO KNOW THAT YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY MANAGED TO-TO-" Antonio couldn't bring himself to say it, tears welled in his eyes. "Veneziano." He whispered, looking up at Feli with tortured, pained eyes. Feli stared back in shock; Antonio had never called him Venziano. It was always Italy, or Ita-chan, but never Veneziano. "Do you know where your brother is?" Belgium inhales sharply, eyes going wide as she shakes her head profusely at the Spaniard. Feliciano slowly shook his head no. Spain hissed and squeezed his eyes shut. Opening them once more, he said in the flattest, dullest voice he could muster;

"Your brother is dead, Feliciano."

Feliciano stared at him in horror, along with the rest of the room. Feliciano searched his eyes for any kind of mirth, a hint that Spain would be joking, but merely found lifeless emerald, the jeweler that once kept the shine vanished. That jeweler was Lovino. Then Feliciano knew.

His brother was gone.

His brother was dead.

His _grande fratello. _

Feliciano moaned; a long, sorrowful sound that seemed to echo throughout the silent hospital.

And that was the last noise anyone had heard him make for three days.


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, okay, enough Veneziano for a moment! Let's focus on Spain and his lost love for a moment~ In something else completely and totally unrelated, the doctor in this story is named Dr. Cruce, right? Well, when we started school, it turns out my Texas History teacher was an old professor with a DOCTORATE named Mr. Cruce! And I was like, "*.* ERRMAIGERRD WHATWASITLIKETAKINGCAREOFITA LYY?!" **

**Disclaimer: No matter how many times I ask, I still don't have Hetalia for Christmas.**

* * *

Gilbert and Francis looked helplessly at each other from across the room. They had come together in a curtained-off part of a waiting room, Feliciano had gone into grief-induced shock and was practically comatose, in no shape to speak. The two glanced nervously at the Spaniard sitting on a couch in the center, cradling his head with guitar-calloused hands. Gilbert cautiously leaned forward and prodded Antonio with a pale finger, and jerked back before Spain could hit him. However, the smack he was expecting never came. Prussia raised an eyebrow at France, who nodded. "Antoine*?" Francis's voice is soft whisper, gentle and accented. When the only response they get is a small snore, the two visibly relax. Prussia yawned and rolled back in his seat, the cheap leather of the hospital chair squeaking. "That's good. Spanien is sleeping." Francis nods, and leans back in his chair as well, crossing his arms over his chest. "_Oui, _he hasn't gotten much sleep since...you know." The two other members look fondly at the sleeping Spanish man, eyes shadowed and tired. Soon enough, they find themselves drifting off as well.

* * *

_Spain..._ Antonio hears a soft voice beckoning to him. _Spain...Spain...Antonio! Open your eyes! _Antonio feels himself flinch at the raise in volume. The voice is familiar.

_Romano...?_

Antonio struggles to open his eyes, the voice growing louder, hushed whispers to ear-piercing yells. _Godammit, you lazy bastard, OPEN YOUR EYES! _Spain's eyes snap open. He's floating in a black abyss that has spotlights placed in erratic 's cold in the abyss, and Spain feels the goosebumps prickling on his arms. Viridian eyes startled, Spain tries to at least stand. He manages to unsteadily rise to his feet before seeing a silhouette in an opening on the abyss he hadn't seen. "_Hola? Hay alguien aqui?*" _He clears his throat and makes a face. His throat feels coated in sandpaper. The silhouette starts moving towards him and snorts. "We've been over this, right? I don't speak Spanish." Antonio freezes. "R-Roma...?" The silhouette steps into a beam and reveals their face. Antonio sucks in a breath.

_That face, that curl, that manner of speaking!_

_Those eyes..._

"Hey, bastard."

* * *

**Whew, boy! That...was difficult. Okay, translation notes~ (NO, I DIDN;T ALMOST FORGET THEM AGAIN)**

**Antoine-I think that's the French version of Antonio, I actually spent a few minutes debating whether or not to put 'Antoine' or 'Antonie' since I've seen both in BTT fanfics.**

**Oui- Yes. That's...pretty obvious.**

**Hola? Hay alguien aqui?- Hello? Is anyone there? **

**Sorry I couldn't put the other question mark on the Spanish phrase, but my keyboard is being an ass. Review please~~**


	7. Chapter 7

**More focus on Spain's lost love~ It seems that Romano's visited Spain after a little time~ Let's see!  
**

**Disclaimer: ...Do I really have to say this all the time? I don't own Hetalia.**

Spain stared, wide-eyed at the man-or apparition, he wasn't totally sure yet- standing in front of him. "L-Lovi..." he rasped, reaching a hand out weakly. "A-Are you-?" Lovino looked at him, seemingly offended. "Dead? Real? You're going to need to be a bit more specific, Antonio." Antonio's heart almost gave out at the sound of Lovino saying his name. "Lovi..." Antonio stumbled towards the Italian, jade eyes still wide and somewhat frightened. Lovino's amber eyes softened and he glided towards Spain quietly. Before he could stop himself, Antonio swept him up into a hug, arms wrapping around the Southern Italian's waist, lifting him up off of the ground. Spain was vaguely aware of the tears streaking down his face, but there was one thing he wasn't letting out of his sight for a while.

* * *

He had forgotten this.

In the few days that Romano had been gone, Spain had forgotten his touch. He had forgotten what it was like, how naturally their bodies fit together, the feel of his lips on Antonio's...  
And he had missed it at the same time.

Lying there, in that odd abyss with Lovino was admittedly one of the most blissful nights of his life. Feeling Lovino's warmth once more, after having it forcefully stripped from him, was almost dream-like as it was comforting. For minutes, hours, days, Antonio didn't care, they laid together in a fluorescent light of a beam, speaking soft murmured words to each other and stealing the occaisonal peck on the lips. Antonio teased him until Lovino's face flushed that tomato-red that Spain had always admired.

And it felt so real.

The caress of Romano's breath on his cheek, the painful tingling that came after a smack from the Italian was felt as strongly as always, as if he was almost truly there. _Romano is there! _He reprimanded himself. "Spain..." The soft whisper cut through the Spaniard's thoughts, causing him to jump slightly and look at the Italian lying next to him. Romano was looking up at him. "T-tell me..." Antonio raised an eyebrow and waited for the Italian to finish his sentence. "...How is my brother doing?" Antonio stiffened, causing Romano to look up in alarm. "What? What is it?" "Veneziano is...upset, to say the least. He's...sort of... I don't know." Lovino rolled his eyes. "There you go again, you bastard. Going off on things that don't make any sense. Try to put together a simple sentence, eh?" And Antonio stifled a grin. Yes, he had missed this too. The cursing and the insults. Lovino curled against him for a moment then halted.  
"Wait-did you just call him 'Veneziano'?"  
"Hm?"  
"My brother- you just called him Veneziano!"  
"And?"  
"You never called him Veneziano! Am I the only one who's thinking here?! It's weird! And stop poking me, goddammit!"  
"Haha, Lovi, your face is all red~"  
"S-Shut up!"  
"Owww~, Lovi, that hurt!"

And for the first time in a few days, Spain felt complete.


	8. Chapter 8

**So, on a completely unrelated note, I have discovered the BEAUTY that is the Hetalia Seiyuu Event. I found it two days ago, and I think I've listened to it...6 times since then? Especially the male team kiss part~ -nosebleeds- Hehehehe...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, no matter how many times I tap the heels of these goddamn shoes!**

Feliciano whimpered; Ludwig frowned. That seemed to be the only noise the Italian made now. Not even the occasonial 've'. Just whimpers.

And it was actually starting to piss Ludwig off. The German was unnaturally edgy about Feliciano, the slightest movement, a heaving sigh, a uncomfortable shift of the arms or legs, made Ludwig fuss over him. Which was odd and unusual, because normally, it was Feliciano fussing over him. The roles had been reversed. Ludwig didn't like that. Now it was time to do something Ludwig did best; clean up a mess.

* * *

Spain opened his eyes, well-rested for the first time in days. He was in a significantly better mood; it felt as if Lovino was still with him. Antonio ran a hand through his tousled brown curls then made his way to Feliciano's room. Apologizing was in order for the Spaniard. He couldn't believe he had been so insensitive to the cheery Italian. _Grief, _he thought to himself. _Definitely grief. _His footsteps echoed off the white-washed walls of the hospital, making walking down a hallway seem creepy. The hair on the back of Antonio's neck stood on end. "_Dios...*_" He shivered, running his hands over his forearms, suddenly cold. Antonio walked a little faster, green eyes focused to the door at the end of the hall. He had no idea that that wasn't a draft. It was the apparition of his dead lover, touching his face gently, the only way he knew how.

* * *

Feliciano looked up at the stern-looking German, amber eyes open yet closed off. Dull pools of amber met icy blue, and Ludwig nearly felt his heart snap into pieces at the despair in Feliciano's eyes. "Feliciano..." Ludwig's deep voice rattled the silence of the room, a disturbance in the awkward tension that hung through the air like a blanket. The Italian continued to gaze at him dimly, face blank. Ludwig's stoic expression flickered to one of panic. "S-say...something. Say something, Feli." Feliciano's eyes widened. Ludwig never, in all the years Feliciano had known him, had called him Feli. He decided to humor the tall German. "Something." He rasped, his voice scratchy and raw-sounding from lack of use. The corner of the Germanic's mouth twitched; the beginnings of a smile despite him rolling his eyes. "Feli." He whispered, bending down to meet the Italian's eyes. "If-if you ever need to talk...I'm here. Okay?" The Italian's eyes softened, then watered. "L-Ludwig..." He croaked, voice wavering, arms subconciously reaching out. The German opened his arms, and the Italian shuffled into the space in between his chest and his arm, turning his head and beginning to cry softly. After a while, the gentle sniffles and hiccups silenced into soft breaths, and it was then Ludwig realized that this was the first time Feliciano had fully cried since his brother had...died. Holding the sleeping Italian close to his chest, Ludwig silently vowed never, ever let anyone lay a hand on his Italian.

* * *

**Well, that was...gloomy. I blame HetaOni.  
Dios- God. {Italian}**


	9. Chapter 9

**c: Okay, I just had a burst of inspiration~**

* * *

_Two little boys are sitting in a field. One with dark amber hair, the other with a shade of bright auburn. A small breeze blows by, ruffling the grass and both of the boys' hair. The one with the lighter hair's little white hat falls off and begins to blow over a rolling hill of the field. The little boy cries out. "Lovino! Fratello, my hat!" Lovino, the boy with darker hair, looks up from the little grass basket he was weaving, startled. "Then go get it, idiota." He says harshly, causing the little boy to flinch and look down dejectedly. "I can't...it's gone now." Lovino bit his lip and stood, walking over to his brother. "Feliciano." he said softly. Feliciano looked up, and Lovino could see the beginnings of tears pooling in the other boy's bright amber eyes. "Aw-dammit-don't cry-!" Feliciano's lip trembled and he turned his head to the side. Lovino huffed and took off his own hat and pulled it over his younger brother's head. "There. Now stop crying, y-you'll look like a sissy." And with those words of wisdom, Lovino turned and plopped down in the grass. Feliciano grinned at the back of his brother's head. "Thanks, fratello." _

Feliciano turned over, the crinkle of the hospital bed's stiff white sheets disrupting the peaceful silence of the hospital room. He lay there for a little while, breathing softly. He had been remembering things non-stop since Germany had held him a few nights ago. The Italian's eyes wandered to the prone form of said German, lying uncomfortably on the creaky plastic armchairs. Feliciano smiles slightly at his form before closing his eyes. It has seemed like merely minutes before the Italian drifts off, taken by sleep and the vivid dreams encasing him.

_The whole world seemed to be moving in slow motion. There was a shiny convertible...it was either silver or white. It's flying at top speed towards them, and somewhere in the back of Feliciano's mind, something tells him to move. The something sounds suspiciously like Germany, but Feliciano's body doesn't seem to respond. It remains, rooted to the spot. _

_**"VENEZIANO!"**  
_

_He is startled and is violently pushed out of the way, landing roughly onto the concrete. Little pebbles from the asphalt stick to his hands and the tanned skin of his arms. "L-Lovi..." He looks to the side just to see the car..._

_Crash into his brother. _

_Time seems to move slowly. Feliciano can't hear anything other than the sound of Lovino's blood spilling and a loud, wailing noise. Tripping backwards, Feliciano lands on his back, hitting his head violently against the concrete. A hopeful thought blooms on his head like the splotch of red growing on the road. 'Maybe he's still alive.' Dully, before he loses consciousness, he notes that the silver convertible is playing blaring rock music._

* * *

__Feliciano wakes up screaming, his head aching, visions of death and blood roaring through his head like an express train. His head pounds sickeningly to the beat of rock music in his head. The tune grows louder, taking over his mind and making him scream louder and louder. The noise in his ears is too feral to be human, and is shrill and loud and ear-splitting. Feliciano's screams escalate into pained, blood-curdling wails as he realizes something, the earlier hope dashed from his mind.

Lovino was dead before he hit the ground.

* * *

**Woah, that was...dark. **


	10. Chapter 10

Lovino sits quietly in the corner of the hospital room, watching his brother drift to sleep. He smiles, ever so softly, as Feliciano's eyes droop and his breath slows. Amber eyes wander off to the form of the sleeping German in the corner, trying to fit his long, muscular frame onto the creaky, ugly patterned chair. Lovino himself is floating, gliding against the stained tile of the hospital, finding it difficult to remember how to walk again. The elder Italian's hand slips out on its own, pale and trembling as it touches the living warmth of his brother's face. The instant he traced the slender fingertips down the other's face, Feliciano's eyes snap open. Lovino opens his mouth to say something but finds no words as fear wells up in his throat, whatever he was going to say drowned in his brother's screams. Lovino's hand snaps back immediately, the instinct to run screeching at him, but he repels it as he stays by his brother's side.

Feliciano's eyes are wide open, amber pools dilated and drowning in complete and utter fear and horror as they flick rapidly from side to side. The elder Italian's face curves into its usual frown and he gently touches his brother's forehead, fingers cool. Feliciano doesn't stop screaming at the touch but his eyes flicker to him then he freezes, screams dying in his throat. And for a split second, Lovino is afraid.

Afraid Feliciano can see him, afraid that his little brother will see his ghost and wonder where he is and why isn't he there with him.

Lovino isn't ready to face that guilt of leaving everyone behind yet. But he couldn't help it.

* * *

_He is the first to see the car zooming towards them. His instincts kick in, everything Grandpa Rome had taught him about war and protection taking over his mind. He dashes forward._

_"VENEZIANO!"_

_Lovino feels a burning, crushing pain in his side and in his lungs as the car slams violently into him, sending him up, up as the pain goes from an ache to a screaming, painful throbbing. He feels his arm wave uselessly next to him, cracked and his mind is as useless as his arm. It is a struggle to breathe and the light fades from his eyes within minutes. Lovino is suspended in the air and his eyes close, sealing the person within forever. Lovino is gone. He is dead._

* * *

But Feliciano's eyes widen and flick off rapidly to the side, his screams reaching such a ear-splitting decibel, Lovino isn't sure if he saw him or not. Ludwig has arisen and is staring at him from the foot of the bed, completely and utterly frozen with utter terror and concern. The German dashes forward, taking the inconsolable Italian's shoulders in his arms, Lovino watching, helpless. Ludwig has tears pooling in his eyes, and he pulls the Italian tightly to him, whispering soft words of what might be comfort to his brother, and the apparition's expression softens. Feliciano's screams are not as loud as before, and the screams fade into wails that twist at Lovino's heartstrings, voices whispering through his head.

_Why aren't you there for him...?_

_You should be the one holding him._

_You are a HORRIBLE brother..._

Lovino's eyes narrow and he stares at the two. Ludwig has somehow gotten Feliciano to the point where he is doing nothing but sobbing, and through the corner of his eye, Lovino can see the doctor and nurse standing hesitantly at the doorway. His eyes begin to mist, lips moving back to snag on his lip, whispering thoughts of his doubt rising to screeches and Lovino clutches at his head.

_Horrible brother..._

_Never there for him..._

_Disgusting little brat..._

__Out of instinct, Lovino turns and does what he was taught to do; leave.

* * *

**Gah short chapter is short**

**...I can't seem to write anything happy now. ._. YES I'M ALIVE **

**Um, who out of my readers reads or has read Homestuck? ^^ " I'm trying to read it but it doesn't make a lot of sense. C:**

**Read and Review~**


	11. Author's Note

**Nope, it's not an update. Sorry I got your hopes up O3O**

**Accident will go on temporary hiatus because I don't have much of a drive to continue it at the moment. I've gotten a little distant to the Hetalia fandom atm, so. :c Sorry!**

**Thanks,**

**Your Author(ess)**


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